


Drunken Drivel and Destiny (Ahhh-nother Nutter Butter Drunkard Remix)

by jedi_penguin



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Crossover, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-11-15
Updated: 2010-11-15
Packaged: 2017-10-13 05:42:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/133596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jedi_penguin/pseuds/jedi_penguin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So a Watcher and a Werewolf meet in a bar...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Drunken Drivel and Destiny (Ahhh-nother Nutter Butter Drunkard Remix)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Pockettheroach](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Pockettheroach).



> Written for Pockettheroach in Musesfool’s Remus Remix ficathon. Pockettheroach wrote a 150-word drabble for me that I then remixed into a story. I doubt she was thinking of a crossover when she wrote it, but the other character just screamed Andrew Wells to me.
> 
>  
> 
>  _"And that's my story," the shabby man concluded, grabbing for his pint. "That's why I sit in here and drink. I was a wizard, a good man, even if I am a werewolf, and after my Sirius died I made some bad decisions. It's my fault Hermione died. It's my fault about Percy, even if he started it himself. And most of all, what happened to Harry..." He trailed off, staring into his drink. "The blame falls entirely on me. I was an outcast in my own world before, and now I'm doubly so." He stopped, remembering there was someone else listening to him. "But you think I'm a nutter, no doubt, talking about wizards and werewolves and all."_
> 
> "No," said the young man, who had listened to the story intently and was now barely able to hold back his tears. "I don't think you're a nutter at all... Professor."

A Watcher’s work was never done. Here he was, coming off a full day of saving the world, and all he could think about at the moment was recruiting more Watchers. Redemption was a full-time job.

Not that he had been thinking about redemption when he entered the bar (no, **pub** ) ten minutes ago. No, the only thing on his mind then was how much he deserved a margarita after the day he’d had. Rupert was so demanding! Just because he misplaced a memo and a troll demolished a Precious Moments factory in Okalahoma, was no reason to yell at him. First of all, no people were hurt (or at least not mortally), and second of all, those figurines were creepy. Andrew thought it was a very good thing to see a bunch of them destroyed. Rupert should have given him a commendation for losing that memo.

Andrew had barely sat down, hadn’t even ordered his drink, when he noticed a guy sitting a couple of seats down. He was in an old, patched cloak and had a sort of sorcerer-y look to him. Not that Andrew had ever guessed a sorcerer correctly before, but some Watcher intuition told him that he was right this time. This guy knew magic, or Andrew was a monkey’s uncle. Which he wasn’t. (Hellhounds, maybe. Tucker had always called the hounds his babies, but he’d never raised monkeys, so that didn’t count.)

The guy was also drunk, so Andrew guessed that he might be willing to talk about the mystical world. Acting on his highly toned Watcher instincts, Andrew scooted over and asked, “Hard day?”

“I’m sorry,” he responded. “But I’m not really looking for anyone ri—“

“You think I’m trying to pick you up?” Andrew asked in disbelief. “You think I’m gay?!?”

“Uh, sorry,” the guy muttered. “Can’t imagine where I got an idea like that.”

Mollified, Andrew nodded graciously. “S’all right. It’s happened before. Can’t figure out why though…”

“Must be your excellent fashion sense,” the guy responded.

“Ya think?” Andrew asked. “You don’t think this jacket is a little daring for these pants?”

“Not at all,” the guy assured him. “My Sir—my old boyfriend used to own a jacket very similar to that one. Many, many years ago.”

“Did you like him in it?’ Andrew asked with genuine interest. Just because the guy was queer didn’t mean that he had to rude to him. Besides, Andrew wanted to know. For girls, of course, because **he** wasn’t gay. No sir! But still, the principle was the same. If a gay guy liked it, then it was likely to work for a highly heterosexual male such as himself.

“He looked fantastic in it,” the guy said with a reminiscent grin. “Of course, Sirius was always a flash bastard.”

“I know a guy like that,” Andrew said, thinking of Spike. “But you never answered my question. Did you have a hard day?”

“Hard day, hard life; is there a difference? “ The guy tossed down a beer with the agility one only sees in a dedicated drunk and nodded for another one. Andrew guessed that maybe the guy was a lot further gone than he looked. “How about you? Did you have a difficult day?”

“The worst,” Andrew said feelingly. “It’s harder saving the world than you might think.”

The guy chuckled humorlessly. “Oh, I have a very good idea of what it costs one to save the world. I lost everything when I saved the world. Would you like to hear about it… I’m sorry. I didn’t get your name.”

“Andrew. Andrew Wells.”

The guy nodded. “Nice to meet you. So, would you like to hear a story about the high cost of saving the world, Andrew?”

Andrew nodded eagerly. Ever since combining his forces with those of the Slayer, he had been interested in saving the world; Anya’s noble sacrifice had turned his interest into obsession. Now that he was the invaluable right-hand man to the Head of the Council of Watchers, saving the world was also in his job description. He felt certain that he would benefit from whatever the guy had to say.

The guy began a long meandering story that nevertheless managed to hold Andrew riveted. He seemed to know a lot about the Ministry of Magic and the Wizarding World. Andrew had once overheard (on accident, of course!) Rupert and Willow talking about the Wizarding World, so Andrew actually knew a great deal about it too, but he had never actually met someone from that milieu before.

Andrew’s new friend seemed to be obsessed with someone named Percy, who was apparently a very bad dude from a very nice family. Soon after his boyfriend died, the guy decided to distract himself by reforming the very bad dude. He convinced Percy’s family to take him back… and everything fell apart.

Percy was secretly working for the bad guy, a sort of bald Darth Vader. The Darth Maul apprentice guy used his Imperial mind control powers on his parents and brothers. He didn’t plan on his brother’s brave girlfriend, however. With all the bravery of Leia and Amidala combined, she broke Percy’s mind control spell. Before Percy’s family could take him down, however, he killed the courageous girlfriend with an Evil Cadaver spell.

Andrew was fascinated by this story. He almost said so, but he had a feeling that the tale would stop if the guy remembered that Andrew was there. There was something about the way he was throwing back drinks that made Andrew think the guy was really talking to himself, trying to sort it all out in his head. And as long as Andrew stayed quiet, he could hear it all.

“Voldemort knew far too much about Order operations by that point. Percy had been able to gather an amazing amount of information before he was caught. Thanks to that bastard, we were losing, the Weasleys were broken, and Hermione was dead. And Harry?” The guy let out a bitter chuckle then finished his ale. “Well, Harry was all alone. Except for me.

“Merlin knows why Harry still trusted me at that point--after all, it was I who brought Percy back to the Weasleys—but he did. And I was even more foolish than Harry. I would do anything, **anything** to keep his faith, and I let him know that. He was all I had, you see.” He gestured for another drink, but only took a small sip this time. He clearly wanted to stay sober enough to finish his story, probably more for his own sake than for Andrew’s.

“Harry came to me with a desperate plan. He wanted me to bite him, to infect him with my lycanthropy. Dumbledore himself would treat Harry in order to reduce the risk of Voldemort hearing about Harry’s condition. Then, on the following full moon, Harry would allow himself to be captured. Voldemort would have Harry’s wand and would assume that the threat was neutralized. It wouldn’t occur to him that Harry might be a physical threat… not until Harry tore him limb from limb.”

Tired of playing with his beer, the guy downed it in a single gulp. He barely even blinked as the alcohol flooded his system. “It worked. Worked brilliantly, in fact. Harry killed Voldemort and not a few of his Death Eaters. No more threat to the Wizarding World and a nice pretty ending for everyone.” He laughed again, an ugly sound that gave Andrew the creeps. “For everyone but Harry, of course.

“The Wizarding World didn’t just want Voldemort defeated, you see. They also wanted a show. They wanted to see The Boy That Lived defeat The Dark Lord in some big dramatic fight to the death. They wanted a hero, but what they got instead was a filthy werewolf. It took a dark creature to defeat the Dark Lord, and the Wizarding World couldn’t accept that. Wherever he went, Harry was reviled. He finally fled the Wizarding World, went underground in haunts unknown. I don’t know that anyone will ever see him again. I know I certainly won’t. Not that I deserve to, after what I did to him.”

A barmaid gave the guy another beer, which he barely acknowledged, so deep was he in his tale. “Harry didn’t know what he was asking of me, you know. Not really. But I knew what it meant to be a werewolf, just how horrible this life is, and I went along with his plan anyway. That’s how pathetically anxious I was to stay in his life. Rather ironic, considering the fact that I’ll never see him again.” He chuckled humorlessly. “Irony and justice are often very difficult to distinguish you know.

“And that’s my story. That’s why I sit here and drink.” He picked up his beer, as if to demonstrate the point. “I was a wizard, a good man, even if I am a werewolf, and after my Sirius died I made some bad decisions.”

The guy’s face twisted in an ugly parody of a grin, and it was at that moment that Andrew recognized him. He had seen that very smile on the front page of _The Daily Prophet_ a few months ago. It was the same paper that described Darth Vader’s defeat, now that he thought about it. Before Andrew could say anything, however, the werewolf continued on.

“It's my fault Hermione died. It's my fault about Percy, even if he started it himself. And most of all, what happened to Harry..." Andrew’s new friend choked on whatever he had been about to say. He took a moment to get himself back together. He stared mindlessly at his beer, almost as if he thought he could find some sort of truth in its amber depths. "The blame falls entirely on me. I was an outcast in my own world before, and now I'm doubly so."

Andrew was appalled. This man had saved the entire world, and all he could do was blame himself for things he couldn’t have helped? He was a hero! He was like Samwise Gamgee, the quiet helper hero that no one noticed. He was everything that Andrew liked to tell himself he was, but knew that he never would be. It broke his heart that his friend couldn’t see that about himself.

The werewolf noticed Andrew’s expression, and mistook it for disbelief. "But you think I'm a nutter, no doubt,” he said with a self-deprecating smile. “Talking about wizards and werewolves and all."

"No," he yelped. "I don't think you're a nutter at all... Professor."

The professor grabbed Andrew by the shirt, and the young Watcher was suddenly reminded that werewolves were awfully strong. “Why do you call me that?” he asked with an easy menace. “You’re a Muggle. You shouldn’t know anything about me.”

“I’m a Muggle that works for the Council of Watchers,” Andrew gasped out. “My boss likes to keep track of the Wizarding World. Sometimes I look through old papers.”

“And you were sitting there laughing at me through my entire tale, is that it?” the guy demanded.

“No, no!” Andrew insisted. “I just recognized you a moment ago. I don’t even know your name, I just remembered that you had been Harry Potter’s old professor.”

“Lupin,” the guy grunted. “The name’s Remus Lupin.”

“Remus?” Andrew asked in amazement. “I’m pretty sure I’ve heard my boss mention you. He said that you were a wizard that he would like to find. I think he knows you.”

“I doubt that very much,” Lupin said. “What’s his name?”

“Rupert Giles. He’s the Head of the Council.”

“Giles? I don’t think I know any Rupert Gi-- Wait a minute,” Lupin said excitedly. “You don’t mean Ripper, do you?”

“He has been called that by some, yes,” Andrew intoned solemnly. He remembered some brief whispers and giggles to that effect between Buffy and Xander and had no idea whether it was true, but he didn’t want to think of some stranger knowing more about his boss than he did. “But that was many years ago.”

“Makes sense,” Lupin acknowledged. “It’s been many years since I’ve seen him. He used to play bass in a club that Sirius and I went to the summer before our last year in Hogwarts. Ripper invited us backstage once and,… we, uh, hit it off, rather.”

Andrew wondered why Lupin was so red. Perhaps the alcohol he had consumed earlier caught up with him suddenly, causing his face to flush. It must have also caused him to forget his original train of thought, because Andrew had the distinct impression that there had been more to that backstage story .

Ah well, perhaps Andrew could find out more about his employer’s past later. For now, he was in Watcher mode and back on the clock. “Are you aware that there is a critical shortage of Watchers right now?” Andrew asked officiously. “This would be a matter of concern in any case, but with thousands of Slayers at the moment, . The Council of Watchers is actively recruiting Wizards, trying to create a new alliance between our two worlds. Would you consider joining us?”

“You can’t be serious!” Lupin choked out. “A werewolf Watching a Slayer? It’s absurd!”

“Perhaps,” Andrew admitted. “But Mr. Giles is willing to try all sorts of absurd things, and almost all of them work. This could be your chance to make a difference, to seek redemption for your sins, to make Harry’s sacrifice mean something!”

Lupin rolled his eyes in a way that Andrew had seen more than once. He still hadn’t determined exactly what that meant. “There’s only one thing I want to know,” Lupin said.

“Yes, the Watcher’s Council offers excellent medical benefits,” Andrew assured him. “And a full dental plan as well.”

“This is England,” Lupin informed him. “We have socialized medicine here.”

“Oh yeah. Well, what else might draw you into the wonderful world of Watcherdom?” Andrew asked anxiously.

“Tell me, Andrew,” Lupin demanded. “Is Ripper involved with anyone at the moment?”


End file.
